


Things are Different Now

by Mrs_Hyperfixed



Series: Actor Mark One Shots [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Fighting, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Hyperfixed/pseuds/Mrs_Hyperfixed
Summary: The Actor deals with the aftermath of a fight with Y/N.
Relationships: Actor Mark/ Y/n
Series: Actor Mark One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794172
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	Things are Different Now

The Actor cracked his knuckles against his desk, the noise audible all throughout his study. His other hand nursed a glass of whiskey, the ice cubes gently clinking against one another. The room was quiet except for the roaring of a fire, and one could make the mistake that it was peaceful. But internally Mark’s mind was like a black cloud. He was in a foul mood, and likely would be for the rest of the day if he didn’t fix it. Maybe for the rest of the next as well. 

An argument. A stupid argument with his dear y/n.

They had fought before, countless times. What couple doesn’t? But this felt different. This felt final. Y/n had started the fight when they had found the Actor in his old bedroom holding Celine’s old dress, running the fabric through his fingers. They had seemed to snap, complaining about how they always would be just a replacement for Celine, or at the very least a second best option. They had said that he would always choose Celine first. Would he prefer that they started dressing and acting like her? Would he like it if they had been as cold and cruel as she had? Maybe if they’d fuck the butler, the closest thing Mark had to a friend besides themselves then he’d feel like she was with him again. Or maybe they should just go fuck themselves. He’d often forgotten recently how they’d been a DA, they knew how to argue and what buttons to push. 

Indignant, he had bit back about how the same could be said for y/n and Damien. How they’d probably trade Mark in a heartbeat to have him beside them instead even after what he’d done. It wasn’t Mark who’d trapped them in the mirror, but it was Mark who’d dragged them out. And then he’d gotten angry. Very angry. He was on a roll now, and he couldn’t stop himself if he’d wanted to. And they’d been the one to poke the wound that Celine had left. He was a man in mourning. He had told them that if they really wanted to go then they could, and he would love to see how long it took for them to come crawling back. Maybe they would find that monster that Damien and Celine had become. Maybe they would see how good they had it when it looked at Y/n from their original body with nothing but disgust in their eyes. Maybe when it learned how Y/n’s relationship with the Actor had developed it would try to hurt them. But then it would discard them when it realised that not even Mark wanted them. And they would be all alone again.

Something in y/n’s eyes had seemed to break. Tears started to fall and they’d put a hand to their mouth and the other to their stomach as if they were in agony. They had looked at him once more before running from the room, leaving him there with clenched fists and metaphorical steam coming out of his ears. 

He had made his way to his study at one point, pouring himself a drink, and another, and another. He had been left to stew and consider what had happened. He hadn’t meant those things, of course not. But he had an uncontrollable temper sometimes. And Y/n had started it. How could they be so stupid? Thinking that he didn’t value them? That they were second fiddle to his ex-wife? He was loath to admit he was in the wrong, and he still wasn’t convinced that he was, but he needed to talk to them about it before they did something drastic. If they did leave he didn’t know what he would do with himself. 

He pushed his chair back, attempting to clear away the last embers of his anger and get rid of his bad mood. He put his half full glass on his desk, the ice rattling loudly with the force of it. Maybe he still needed a minute to think clearly?

***

They shared a bedroom at this point. Not the Actor’s old one, it had too many memories of happier times with Celine. He had figured his Y/n would have gone to the new one they shared. He knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to wake them. When there was no answer or sound of movement beyond the wood he opened it gently. Sure enough, Y/n lay curled up in the middle of the bed. They seemed to be fast asleep. The bed was enormous, making them seem so small. 

He crept closer to the side of the bed they faced to take a look at them. The pillow was wet where their tears had soaked through the fabric, and Mark felt a pang in his chest. But his attention was drawn to what they were curled around. A brown teddy bear in a red robe with black trimming with an empty martini glass fastened to its hand. Blotches of the fur on the bear’s head were wet where Y/n’s tears had soaked in. They held onto the bear for dear life as they slept, clinging on like it was the only thing in the world that would keep them grounded. Whatever was left of his anger dissipated in a puff of smoke. 

When had they made this? Why had they made it? Where had they hidden it?

They loved him. They really did. But seeing him with Celine’s dress had tipped them over the edge. He supposed he did talk about her a lot. And he had noticed Y/n staring at the wedding ring still on his finger. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hands in his head. Why were things so fucking complicated? 

He was a stubborn man, and hated admitting he had done something wrong. Y/n would apologise when they woke up, but this time he was going to beat them to it.

Y/n stirred behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see that they had tightened their grip on the teddy bear. A tear fell from one of their eyes as they continued to be dead to the world.

Then he stood up, and made his way to his old bedroom again. Throwing open the old closet doors he took out all of Celine’s old clothes and threw some of them over his shoulder. Pile by pile he took them to his study and threw them on the floor in front of the fireplace. Then he went back for her shoes and scarves. And then her veils, hats and even her jewellery. Everything that belonged to her was cleared out of that room. Once all that was left of her was on his study floor he looked at his fireplace. 

It was a massive thing, useful for keeping the chill out in a mansion that Mark couldn’t be bothered modernising. You could fit a person in it, and at the lowest point in his life he had considered throwing himself into it and lighting a fire underneath him.

He stopped to consider only for a second. He would be destroying what was left of his ex-wife. And there had been happy times with her. But then he thought of Y/n curling around the teddy bear they had modeled after him. Then he had thought of the first time he had ever received a bouquet of flowers, and the card that had said I love you - Y/n. He thought of how they would lie with him when he had a bad day, and how they would lead him out of bed to give him a bath and feed him. And he remembered when he had finally bought a stereo and the two of them had danced until their feet heart and drank until they’d ended up tangled in each other's arms. 

So considering all of these moments, he threw the first pile of Celine’s clothes into the fire and then watched it burn. He didn’t even wait for it to finish before the next pile went in on top of it. And then the next. He increased fervour, his breathing becoming heavier as he picked up handfuls of fabric. And then he was throwing jewelry. And suddenly there was nothing. Nothing but a roaring fire so hot that sweat was beginning to drip down the end of his nose.

He looked down at his left hand. The gold band winked back up at him. Without taking a second to think otherwise, he slid it off his sweaty finger and threw it into the fire. It was going to take a while, but by the time that fire finished burning it would be nothing but a chunk of metal. And that was perfect.

He picked himself up from the carpet and left his study, making his way towards the bedroom he shared with his love. They were still fast asleep in the centre of the large four-poster bed. Without a word, he crawled next to them and pulled them towards his own chest, the bear between them. They subconsciously snuggled closer, burying their face in his chest. 

He sighed, content. “Things will be different now,” he whispered before letting himself fall into a deep slumber

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my main Tumblr blog @mrs-hyperfixed and my writing blog @mrs-hyperfixed-writes. xx


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